


The One In The Shower

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-08
Updated: 2010-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Froggie's prompt: McCoy/Kirk, face-slapping, name-calling, choking on [redacted but obvious]." Based on this splendid and utterly nonworksafe image:   <a href="http://froggie.livejournal.com/392741.html">http://froggie.livejournal.com/392741.html</a><br/></p>
    </blockquote>





	The One In The Shower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Froggie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Froggie).



> For Froggie's prompt: McCoy/Kirk, face-slapping, name-calling, choking on [redacted but obvious]." Based on this splendid and utterly nonworksafe image: <http://froggie.livejournal.com/392741.html>  
> 

When Jim steps in to see a hasty scatter of clothes on Bones's side of the room and hears the shower pattering over low needy noises, he peels down as fast as he can and heel-toes it silently across to the bathroom. His intuition is spectacularly rewarded by the blistering-hot sight of Bones jerking it in the shower, obvious even through the translucent door in his hand's slapping rhythm and the guttural groans he exhales. He's so into it he hasn't even noticed Jim's secretive infiltration, which is _perfect_.

Jim jerks open the shower door, eyes open to absorb the maximum of data before the image shifts as Bones jumps and flails. Skidding to his knees on the streaming wet tiled floor, Jim grips Bones's wrist firmly in a downwards shove and sucks in the head of his cock in the time it takes Bones to snatch an irate breath and bellow, "Jim!"

"Mmm-hmm?" Going down, Jim slurps over Bones's fingers for good measure, clamping his hands around Bones's hips over those delicious spots where ass meets thigh. Bones shiver-gasps under the gushing hot water, again and again as Jim licks his index finger on each downstroke. As he slurps happily, Jim shuts his eyes to savor that first sight of Bones stroking away, lashes dripping, lips parted and flushed red to match the hectic glow over his cheekbones, then opens them to study Bones' lean navel and the way his treasure trail funnels water downwards to fill Jim's mouth with sweet salt.

"Jesus Haploid Christ _Incarnate_ ," Bones splutters, letting his cock go to cup both hands tenderly around Jim's head, "what are you even doing here now?" Jim gives him the littlest graze of teeth right under the ridge, to point out exactly what it is he's doing, and Bones gurgles out the bastard hybrid of a huff and a laugh. "I -- Jim -- _what--_ " as Jim sucks down the centimeters vacated by Bones's fingers, swallowing him to the root. Bones being not at all ungifted, this means Jim gags a little, his blocked throat squeezing around Bones's cockhead.

Bones jerks and whacks Jim lightly over the ear. "Stop that," he moans, belying his order, "don't choke yourself, you idiot." So really, Jim has no choice to do it again, and Bones wobbles and claws at his hair. "God dammit, Jim, you need -- you-- Jesus _fuck_ \--" because Bones can bitch all he likes but Jim knows he knows what he's doing, and what he's doing is driving Bones crazy with lips and tongue and suction as Bones's balls tighten against his chin and savory warmth trails all the way down his throat. Okay, his head's starting to feel a little light, his ears are kind of pounding, but he can still hear Bones groaning and feel those big hands clutch his head, and if a thing's worth doing well it's worth a little oxygen dep. Jim doesn't let up, concentrating on the hot sluice down his back rather than the rising tightness in his chest, Bones's dick gorgeously heavy on his tongue rather than the roar in his ears, Bones moaning and gripping his temples right up until he comes in thick jets down Jim's throat.

Jim can't quite finish off with a long aftershock-inducing lick -- more like a hasty topple backwards onto his ass as his lungs demand he fill them and his body jackknifes away from Bones to make him comply -- but he's pretty sure he managed this deep-throat with style, mostly. And only a little coughing.

Bones wobble-thunks down in front of him anyway, slapping the shower control to 'off' and muttering an indistinct curse as he grabs Jim's head again. Jim blinks into Bones's fierce dark stare as they both pant in the humidity until he can cough up, "Um, what? What're you doing?"

"Checking for petechiae, dipshit," Bones growls, though the corner of his mouth twitches up traitorously, then drags Jim in and plunders him tongue-first. Jim grips Bones's water-slick biceps and moans a chuckle against his lips, feeling just a little bit like he's won.


End file.
